<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Wondering If You Knew by blanchards</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068761">Wondering If You Knew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchards/pseuds/blanchards'>blanchards</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), But He Gets There, Disaster Gays, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, I promise the song ref makes sense when you read it all the way through, I tried to catch any spelling mistakes but it is 5am and I am Very Tired, I use way too many commas, Love, M/M, Multi, Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Slow Build, Tenses are all over the place, also kuei is there, mailee if you squint, there is a good amount of sokka running away from his feelings, there is no good reason for this to be as long as it is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:28:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchards/pseuds/blanchards</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in a week full of diplomatic meetings with only one another for company, Zuko and Sokka begin to see each other in a different light.<br/>OR<br/>Firelord Zuko and Ambassador Sokka think its a good use of their time to exchange notes and complain during important foreign-policy discussions and dig themselves into a hole they can't get out of.</p><p>Inspired loosely by the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift<br/>Rated T+ for swears</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wondering If You Knew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have a lot of feelings about zukka relating to Taylor Swift songs and now this is 8k words long. It probably will happen again. Sorry for any inconsistencies/mistakes I didn't get into this until not long ago and I'm still making my way through the post-show comics.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SOKKA</p><p>With every braincell he could force to work at 6am, Sokka was sure, this week was going to suck. He hauled his bag behind him and stumbled down the platform connecting his ship to the Fire Nation Capital’s docks. The sun had barely risen and yet the sticky, suffocating heat was surrounding him already, he swatted away a small bug and cast his eyes on the Palace that loomed high in the distance. He mustered a weak smile. <em>Good to be back. </em></p><p>It wasn’t that Sokka didn’t want to be here, in the Fire Nation. That wasn’t true at all, he loved it, with all its winding roads and warm colours, all its spicy treats and bustling life. There were a lot more smiles here these days. He figured the Fire Nation public had always been some level of content, <em>they weren’t a nation having its land ripped from underneath them</em>, but there was always a vague unease. Too many stringent rules that made no sense, too many power happy guards, too many reasons to watch your back in your own home.</p><p>It had though, seemingly, changed. People spoke louder and laughed harder, unafraid, no longer subdued by tyranny. He watched some children kick a ball back and forth enthusiastically on their way to school. He smiled at their beaming faces, safe. That’s how it should be.</p><p>No, it truly wasn’t that Sokka didn’t want to be here.</p><p>But he certainly didn’t want to <em>do</em> what he was there <em>for.</em></p><p>He had only been back a handful of times since the end of the war, being so far away in the South Pole hadn’t made frequent visits the easiest thing in the world. But he’d come back, maybe four times on diplomatic grounds with his father (as Southern Water Tribe Ambassador and Chief) and a couple more times with Aang and Katara to visit Zuko.</p><p>
  <em>Zuko. </em>
</p><p>He missed the Firelord, he had to say. With all his seriousness and responsibility Sokka had to admit, Zuko had taken over the role with great success. He’d drafted peace treaties, began reparations, owned his father’s - his family’s - mistakes and worked earnestly to begin to set them right. He really was good at his job; the nation would be completely lost with out him. Sokka felt a strange pull on his chest at that thought. <em>Pride </em>he told himself as he explained it away. And it’s true, he was proud of Zuko. He realised that maybe he was actually quite excited to see him again – if anyone in that Palace could make the most boring week of his life go faster it was going to be him. He hoped.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Zuko felt Sokka coming from a mile away. He let the small smile creep up onto his face. He was one of those people you always hear before you see. Boisterous, enthusiastic, <em>loud. </em>Still smiling to himself, no one would want his Ambassador any other way. A thought crossed his mind and Zuko fought against the desire to pull his hand up and bite at his nails, maybe some people would.</p><p>Sokka had never attended Foreign-Policy meetings before alone. It had always been with Hakoda. Always. Sokka was fun, he had great ideas, he was incredibly smart and creative, but he’d never quite mastered the intricacies of a diplomatic gathering. Sokka was driven, extremely moral and unafraid to state his opinions, he found the almost rhythmic way people spoke and danced around speaking to each other nothing more than an outdated pretence and a ‘complete waste of time’. If speaking out of turn was a sport, Sokka had the gold medal. And Zuko had to see his point, it wasn’t as if he was bad at listening or negotiating, some of the best ideas for the national reform so far had come from Sokka’s brain – but out of Hakoda’s mouth. Sokka could be persuasive, his enthusiasm alone for loving what he did was infectious enough, but many of the advisors Zuko had gathered (the same ones arriving this week) didn’t value persuasion. They valued rank, status, <em>age.</em> It angered him immensely, Sokka was more intelligent than half of them put together, but that’s just how things were. There was no getting around having to respect a teenage Firelord, but a teenage Ambassador was fair game. They didn’t care for what Sokka had to say and Sokka didn’t care for whether they cared if he cared if they- Zuko rubbed his temples.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p><em>“I feel as though that’s a reasonable compromise.”</em> Zuko stated looking down his nose at the piles of paper below him, <em>“Okay, next item, trading tariffs.” </em>Sokka wished the ground would just swallow him right there. <em>Why </em>had he imagined Zuko would make this any more tolerable. He stifled a yawn. What part of him thought that the all but officially announced leader of these meetings would possibly be his ticket to escape boredom. Zuko <em>lead </em>the boredom. He especially hated the voice. The specific voice, regal voice, he used to command attention. Deep and unwavering, firm, Sokka didn’t care for it. True, his stomach had flipped when Zuko used it towards him to ask for his opinion but also, Sokka hadn’t had lunch yet, and it was well past midday, so it could have been that.</p><p>At least Zuko asked him for opinions. For that he supposed he should be grateful. After spending the entirety of the first day being spoken over, ignored and shot down, Sokka had resided to not saying anything and sulking instead. If Hakoda wondered why their enquiry regarding the fishing ports had not been dealt with, then he’d just have to take it up with the Earth Kingdom advisor making it his personal mission to cough every time Sokka opened his mouth.</p><p>He hated it here.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Zuko was, also, not having a good time. At all. Considering the meetings were deemed ‘peaceful negotiations’, he hadn’t known peace since yesterday morning. He supposed the title was ironic. Poking through his plate of food he examined the papers for the afternoon’s agenda, or rather, he glowered at them. He appeared to be hoping that if he stared long enough, they might just resolve themselves.</p><p><em>“Careful, Sparky.”</em> Zukos head snapped upwards. Sokka was standing over him; plate in one hand, fistful of fire flakes in the other. He jerked his elbow in the direction of Zukos tea, now bubbling and spluttering, boiling hot. It stopped immediately. Zuko regained composure. <em>“Thank you, Sokka.”</em></p><p><em>“No problem.”</em> Was what his reply sounded like, but it was hard to be completely sure when he had a mouth full of the flakes he’d been holding. He slid into the seat opposite him at the table. At <em>Zukos</em> table. A table which specifically had one seat, to sit alone at, <em>for</em> <em>Zuko</em>. Sokka had, somehow, dragged an entire chair over whilst he wasn’t noticing and was now happily munching away opposite his friend, seemingly glad of some company at last. He didn’t have the heart to shoo him away.</p><p><em>“I know these meetings aren’t easy for you.”</em> He said sympathetically after a moment. He was going to continue to say thank you for coming but Sokka cut him off with a loud scoff before he could.</p><p><em>“I’ll say. All these old farts think they know what’s best for everyone. How about some advice from an Ambassador </em>without<em> one foot in the grave?”</em> Zuko wanted to frown, but a small smile crept out instead. He just shook his head when Sokka met his gaze. The Water Tribe boy reached out for the papers in front of him. Zukos reflexes were quicker.</p><p>
  <em>“Come on, let me at least look. Can’t I have a head start?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It isn’t a race, Sokka.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do they know that??”</em>
</p><p>He had to admit, it felt awfully like a fight over who could get their say in first sometimes, and he was sick of having to mediate a bunch of grown adults. At least when Sokka barked over everyone, it was with something intelligent to say.</p><p><em>“Some of them just say the same things over and over too.”</em> Sokka complained, reading his mind. He was looking at his plate with the same animosity Zuko had towards the papers. <em>“That Earth Kingdom dude, the one that keeps coughing,”</em> his friend spit out the words as if particularly stung by the memory, <em>“he said the same sentence four times in a row at one point, like, does he actually know any other words?”</em></p><p>He chuckled at that one.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p><em>“Sokka, if you have something important to say, it’s always worth trying. I’ll stick by you.”</em> Zuko offered, his smile warm. Sokka’s stomach flipped again, he shovelled more food into his mouth. He wasn’t going to suffer through an entire second act of this misery <em>whilst</em> still hungry.</p><p><em>“Or, you could just crunch fire flakes every time that Earth Kingdom Ambassador talks. Fight fire with fire.” </em>He mused, looking around at his Palace <em>“Seems the appropriate place.”</em></p><p>Sokka snorted, he liked that idea better. Finally looking up from his food he gave Zuko a grin, and an emotion seemed to cross over the other boy’s face that he couldn’t quite register. He shrugged it off and took another bite. <em>“When’s the break over?”</em></p><p><em>“In about ten minutes.” </em>he didn’t have to check the time.</p><p><em>“I think- I’ll let King Kuei take the reigns on these next few items… or maybe the whole meeting.”</em> Zuko was pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p><em>“Sure,”</em> Sokka nodded, glad to be rid of the Regal Mediator act for at least one afternoon, <em>“Take a day off. You earned it.”</em></p><p>He rubbed his temples, exasperated, <em>“Sokka it’s only day two.”</em></p><p>----</p><p>Twenty-five minutes in, Sokka wanted to take back everything he said about Zuko being a boring leader. This was so much worse. King Kuei read everything in the exact same tone, at the exact same volume, in the exact same way. Vocal infliction was a distant dying memory to this man. Sokka frowned, pegging Kuei for more of a charismatic individual than this – but from the moment he near grabbed the itinerary out of Zukos hands when they reconvened, it was like his soul had left his body. He’d seen shades of grey with more personality.</p><p>He scribbled this particular thought down, folded the parchment up and slid it discreetly to his right.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Zuko had been trying very hard not to stare out of the window. Or fall asleep. Or commit homicide. Right now, he wanted to do all three. As Kuei dragged on about something to do with boat lanes he wondered if it was too late to abdicate his throne to Iroh. Or anyone, really. Anyone that would take the position. They could host a raffle for it.</p><p>A piece of white parchment slid gently towards him; he cocked an eyebrow at Sokka. Or rather, at the back of Sokka’s head, which was nodding earnestly along with every boring word said, whilst his fingers wiggled the square of paper at Zuko impatiently. The Firelord sighed. He took the note.</p><p>Seconds later he pushed it back, having added below Sokka’s comment, the words:</p><p>
  <em>-You’re being awfully generous to the colour grey-</em>
</p><p>He saw his friend give a slight smile, something stirred in his chest, but he couldn’t quite place it.</p><p>
  <em>-what did grey ever do to you?-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-offended my eyes-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-your royal eyes?-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-the very ones-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-you wear black all the time-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-black's not grey?-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-it’s dark grey-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-you’re impossible-</em>
</p><p>They went back and forth for a while, for however long Zuko felt he could get away with it before having to speak out again. He wished it could have been longer.</p><p>He contributed to these meetings all the time, as the host you kind of have to he’d found, but a lot of what he was saying in this moment was bullshit, to be honest. The day had already been a write off and he just wanted to get back to the game he was currently playing via parchment notes with Sokka. It was his turn. Still, sitting back down in his seat to see the Water Tribe Ambassador give him a small thumbs up and a wink stirred that same feeling from earlier right back up again. He flashed him a courteous small smile in return, but Zuko really wasn’t sure why it felt like he was blushing.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p>Day three. If looks could kill, Sokka was pretty sure the Ambassador stood before them would be attending his own wake right now. Sokka had many questions today, such as: why are these meetings as long as they are, does the Earth Kingdom really need to send this many representatives, when can I leave, does anyone know they’re allowed to speak faster than one word per minute, and now, his latest: How hasn’t Zuko lit this guy on fire.</p><p>It started fine, talks of colony settlements and preserving their heritage, and then someone had suggested upping colony tax as they’re not ‘official citizens’ and it had all gone to hell. He could see the strain behind Zuko’s eyes. He had so badly not wanted to reopen this old wound, and Sokka knew. Nobody wanted to be reminded of the time they nearly started a second war during their first month on the throne. But Zuko fought valiantly for his people, in a way that Sokka almost fell short of breath watching him. He’d never seen him like this, with so much passion flaring beneath the surface. Okay, well he <em>had</em> but it was always happening when either Sokka was running away from death with Zuko or running away from death <em>from </em>Zuko. He could be forgiven if he’d never stopped to appreciate the scenery. But right now, he did, and it was something else. Zuko chewed the Earth Kingdom Ambassador out, running a hand through his hair whenever he got particularly intense. Sokka noted, that Zuko had very nice hair and that it looked… extra very nice when he flexed his hands and it cascaded around his face in a tousled manner. It wasn’t weird or anything. Sokka was just very observant.</p><p>He also noted, apparently now taking inventory of Zuko in his riled-up state, that when he pushed his arms down against the table, closing his eyes and steadying himself (he really had tried to get into a habit of <em>avoiding</em> this level of conflict) the sun seemed to shine directly across his face and torso, glowing gently around his body, and that when he opened his eyes once more they lit up with an already fierce spark in them and Sokka suspected, that to some people, that could be considered attractive. It was only logical, after all. He thought casually about how Zuko was, actually, quite pretty. He thought about how he couldn’t remember if Zuko still had a thing going on with that Mai girl who liked to throw knives, Sokka remembered he’d yet to tell him about Suki leaving to return to Kyoshi island alone, he thought about if Zuko would care that Suki wasn’t around, he thought about why it mattered to him whether he did or not.</p><p>He swallowed the intrusive questions down and handed over another note instead, this time a comically done drawing of the asshole arguing against them, but lit on fire, and Zuko, now seated, deftly took it from his grasp, their fingers grazing for the briefest moment. Sokka pretended not to feel his pulse skip. He watched as the boy beside him opened the paper, there was a pause, then a cough – Sokka suspected to cover a laugh. And then Zuko, eyes still fiery, hair still tousled, turned the slightest degree towards him. Had their chairs always been so close? Eyes locked together with a sudden intensity the he <em>swore</em> had come from nowhere. Zuko smirked. And every thought Sokka had at this awful meeting came unravelling all at once.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>He wasn’t going to think about it. He wanted to. But he wasn’t going to. He had two days left of the peace talks <em>and</em> the banquet to go still, Zuko did not have the <em>time </em>to pace back and forth in his room and think about Sokka. He, frankly, did too much of that already. Take for example, the previous night: Sokka was probably sound asleep, entirely unphased by the day’s events, but what was Zuko doing? Replaying the same moment over and over in his memory, as if the notion of any other thought would cause it to disappear forever. All he could think about. The fierce blush on Sokka’s face when he smirked at him. It had not escaped Zuko that a pair of eyes had been watching him, more intensely than the others, whilst he waxed lyrical about caring for his people. It had also not escaped Zuko that the only thing keeping him <em>sane </em>during these meetings was the presence of the dark-haired boy who sat beside him. And he <em>loved</em> Sokka’s company, he stole one too many glances, he watched him write furiously, watched how a stray hair would occasionally fight free and curl up against his forehead, he noticed how Sokka’s skin, deep brown and mesmerising, would shine - no - glow in the early mornings of their meetings. How his eyes would crackle with light when he laughed. His genuine, wide, grin was a sight that sent Zukos heart racing. He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d began to notice all these things, but regardless of when that was – Zuko had been convinced he was in it alone.</p><p>And then he watched as before his eyes as his best friend all but fell apart at the seams, and now he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.</p><p>He found himself wishing Sokka could just <em>be</em> there. Could just slam open his chamber door with his big stupid grin and say all the words he needed to hear. Zuko wasn’t even quite sure what those words would be – but Sokka would know. He was good with words.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p>Sokka was terrible with words. He wanted to die. Scowling at the canopy above his bed he wondered what he did in a previous life to be so stupid in this one. Sokka was good in his head, he was smart, inventive, but saying it out-loud… Things had a habit of coming out wrong. He unfolded the note he’d rescued from the meeting. The note Zuko had opened, paled at, and then never replied to. He didn’t mean to back Zuko into a corner like that. Now he wouldn’t even <em>look</em> at him. Sokka glared at the paper, his sprawling handwriting condemning him. The stupidest question he could have possibly asked.</p><p>
  <em>- Who do you love? –</em>
</p><p>He hadn’t meant for it to sound like <em>that. </em>He just wanted to know where Zuko stood. Did he even <em>care</em>? Did he really have to write it like some declaration? Maybe he did. He’d seen nothing wrong with it at the time because that was, in its absolute driest form, the heart of what he wanted to know. <em>Why</em>, he was unsure of.</p><p>He groaned and threw his face into the pillow. How hard would it have been to write <em>“are you and knife girl still a thing Y or N”. </em>He was suddenly very glad he wasn’t staying for the banquet at the end of the week (plans to get back early and assist his father) he was sure Zuko wasn’t going to want him around any longer than he had to be.</p><p>Worked for him.</p><p>This whole trip was a mistake.</p><p>It was a wonder Sokka heard the note slide under his door amongst the sounds of all the brooding he was doing, but somehow, he did.</p><p>
  <em>- Meet me in the gardens, by the pond. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zuko x –</em>
</p><p>The cloak and daggers seemed a tad unnecessary in Sokkas professional opinion, but whatever kept Zuko talking to him and not hating him. He’d go along, apologise for the note, and for the boundaries he no doubt crossed, tell him he’d forget all about it and that he’ll be out of his hair by this time tomorrow. His hair. His very pretty hair. His hair that gently lapped at his shoulders. His hair that sometimes tickled Sokka when he leaned in to whisper something.</p><p>He was doing it again. What was wrong with him? Why <em>did</em> he care who Zuko loved? Steadying his hand on the door for balance he forced himself to get a grip. Eyes wandering down. <em>“Zuko x”</em> He shook his head vigorously. This wasn’t happening. He tossed the letter on the desk and closed the door behind him.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Who do you love? Who do you love? Who do you love?</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You, I think.</em>
</p><p>Zuko rehearsed it in his head about a million times over until he heard footsteps approaching. The turtleduck he’d been pretending to focus on quacked indignantly.</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry buddy, you’re gonna have to share him.”</em>
</p><p>Sokka’s voice was smooth and lower than usual, controlled, almost raspy with tiredness. He suddenly realised how much he’d missed that voice in the past months. Coming into view, a small smile, a sharp jawline, two bright eyes, Zuko cursed his breath for catching in his throat – there was no lighting this boy didn’t look good in.</p><p>“<em>Did you come alone?</em>” the question was more of a distraction from his own thoughts and what he might admit if his mind continued to wander, than a genuine query – Sokka was very obviously stood in the middle of the gardens by himself.</p><p><em>“Did I- yes of course I came </em>alone<em> Zuko. Who was I going to bring?? Kuei??”</em></p><p>Sokka flopped down beside him, also resting against the wide tree stump. Close. Too close? Zuko didn’t adjust. Neither did Sokka. He supposed the answer to that was no, then. Zuko was just beginning to wonder if he could <em>ever</em> feel too close to Sokka when his train of thought was interrupted.</p><p>
  <em>“About that note”</em>
</p><p>Wow, already? Zuko kind of hoped he might have a couple minutes to drink in as much of Sokka as he could before he caused irreparable damage to their friendship. There was no getting around it now though, he braced himself to answer.</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t have to answer it.”</em>
</p><p>He froze, an appropriately deep breath still sitting in his lungs. Sokka… didn’t want to know? Was he afraid of the answer? <em>He should be.</em> Zuko thought. Agni knows he was.</p><p><em>“Yeah, and it’s not like it’s my business anyway, whatever you and Mai do together doesn’t matter to me,”</em> Sokka blurted out, perhaps a little too defensively, <em>“I only asked because you know, well you don’t know, but Suki and I broke up and I just wondered how things were going with-”</em></p><p><em>“Mai’s a lesbian.”</em> Zuko deadpanned. Sokka’s head flipped immediately to face him. It wasn’t until this point Zuko had realised he was wearing his pyjamas, similar in design to his day clothes, but looser and clearly a different material. The combination of this and the slight ruffle of his hair made Sokka suddenly seem impossibly soft. Zuko let himself wonder what it might feel like to reach out and touch him right now, to hold him, to run a hand gently through his hair. Sokka’s hair looked just as wonderful down, he selfishly wished he could see it like that more often.</p><p>He snaps back to the incredulous face hidden behind it.</p><p><em>“Mai’s a </em>what<em>??” </em></p><p><em>“A lesbian. She realised months ago.”</em> Zukos voice has no emotion behind it. He was past this. Sure, it hurt at first, being dumped is never fun, but he only wanted her to be happy. And it’s not like Zuko never noticed how her face lit up around Ty Lee in a way it never did with him. Eventually he’d shrugged it off. Things were fine now. Sokka’s disbelief was about four months too late.</p><p>Slowly his wide eyes resume back to their sleepy resting position. Zuko fought the urge to reach out and stroke his face. <em>“Huh.”</em> Is all he said after a while. And then, bizarrely, <em>“Suki’s not a lesbian.”</em></p><p>Zuko raised a comically quizzical eyebrow. Sokka fumbled <em>“I- I just mean, if you were wondering why we- why she- I- I mean she could be, but that’s not why-”</em> he exhaled, Zuko trying earnestly hard not to laugh. <em>“She went back to Kyoshi island. Alone. So that was that I guess.” </em>There’s something sad behind Sokka’s eyes. Not fresh hurt, but the kind of melancholy people always hold onto after relationships end. It’s the same look he gives when he mentions Yue.</p><p>Time passes, Zuko doesn’t care how long. He’s transfixed watching the Water Tribe boy attempt to form an alliance with the turtleducks. It’s cute. Zuko can’t help himself, he places a singular hand over Sokka’s. There’s a silence, but it’s comfortable, like a warm wave lapping over them, Zuko forgets about the note.</p><p>When he looks over, Sokka looks away, sheepishly, and the warmth in Zuko’s chest returns once more, but this time spreading like an inferno. It flickers through his veins and Zuko isn’t sure <em>what’s</em> in control anymore when he reaches out to push a piece of Sokka’s hair behind his ear and keeps his hand resting against his cheek after he’s done. He’s expecting his friend to pull away. His best friend. To move aside, perhaps look back at him with a confused or disgruntled expression. Maybe it’ll be anger. Zuko’s stomach drops - maybe it’ll be pity. But Sokka doesn’t seem have any of those emotions registered across his face when he slowly turns around. And, avoiding his gaze as he brings his own hand up to rest atop of Zuko’s, intertwining their fingers ever so slightly, says more than any facial expression could. He keeps going. Some remaining part of his brain that advocates for caution claws at him to stop but all Zuko can feel is Sokka’s forehead pressed against his own. If he leans down now, he’s there. He can kiss him. Sokka who is gently tilting his own chin upward. His closest friend, who might actually beat him to it-</p><p>Sokka abruptly pulls away. Zuko reels.</p><p><em>“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” </em>A beat. Zuko just looks down.</p><p><em>“We should- uh- get some rest. I think. I’m only here for one more day so. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest!”</em> he forces out a laugh, its unconvincing. But Zuko has just weighed up his sentence.</p><p><em>“You’re not staying for the banquet.”</em> He says, more of an accusation than a question.</p><p>
  <em>“Uh- no.” </em>
</p><p>The reply sounds strained, Zuko frowns at him and prays Sokka can’t see what he thinks might feel like tears forming in his eyes. He doesn’t fully know why yet.</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry.” </em>
</p><p>Zukos gaze returns to floor. When he finally looks back up again, Sokka is long gone.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p>It’s a last-minute decision, so he’s already missed most of the food, and he silently curses himself for this.</p><p>Sokka wasn’t going to come. He really wasn’t. It didn’t matter how the look on Zuko’s face killed him and how he couldn’t stop thinking about them, slumped against the tree, faces impossibly close. It didn’t matter that when the next day had rolled around, zuko had given nothing more than occasional cursory glances and always looked away with something in his expression that read an awful lot like pain. It didn’t matter that this destroyed Sokka, and bit away at him every time it crossed his mind until the guilt in his stomach was uproarious.</p><p>What did matter, though, was the sudden realisation he’d come to, queuing up to leave last night. The realisation that somewhere in that Palace was boy, a very beautiful, kind boy, who hasn’t left his mind in five days straight – and he thinks he’s done something wrong. You really just can’t set that sort of thing right in a letter.</p><p>So Sokka was here, in the nicest clothes he could find at such short notice, and he was going to set things right. He had no idea how yet. He had no idea why he’d even run from Zuko in the first place. Panic briefly crept in at the fear he might do it again. But he’d spent all day in his room torn between this and getting the next boat home and now he’d finally made a decision and he was <em>already</em> late. He really did hope the food wasn’t all gone.</p><p>But, entering the large mahogany lined room with newly found vigour, Sokka’s thoughts of fresh breads and skewered meats dissipate as his mind races to catch up with where his eyeline is. His confidence immediately crumbles. In front of him, amongst the bright-eyed patrons, gauche and over-dressed, decked out in gaudy, embroidered garments, is something he’s never seen before, not like this. He wants to stare forever. <em>Zuko is dancing</em>. Twirling round in an organised manner with a handful of other people. It’s a dance Sokka knows to be intricate and difficult but it looks like the music just <em>flows</em> through him. He envies the girl stood closest to him, being spun around by Zuko’s arm as he offers a reassuringly light laugh in response to her nervous giggle. His heart aches. He thinks he might wish that was him.</p><p>From painfully afar, he takes it in: Zuko, shoulders back, warm smile, <em>regal</em>, in almost all black with the glitter of an amber trim contrasting against it. Hair pulled half back, signature crown piece reflecting the roaring golden light of torches that line the room. That very same light shining within him, breaking out to the surface through his eyes. Blinding. Sokka feels utterly incapacitated. He briefly imagines how Ba Sing Se wasted their time building hypnotic contraptions, when they could have cut so many corners by simply recruiting Zuko to stand in front of a light source and smile. He wonders if the Firelord can hear his heartbeat from the other side of the hall - it’s stuttering so rapidly that he’s convinced it must be audible for miles.</p><p>Perhaps even if he <em>can’t</em> hear Sokka’s heart trying it’s best to ascend from his chest up via his throat, he can hear his thoughts: twirling gently 90 degrees until their visions interlock with almost physical force.</p><p>Sokka waits. Waits for something, anything. He waits for one of them to look away, for Zuko to walk towards him, for the ground to eat him up where he stands. Nothing moves. Minutes or decades pass. He’s not sure he breathes.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Its funny, Zuko notes, how time can move achingly slowly, then suddenly all at once. A second ago he was standing, centre stage, surrounded by kind subjects vying for his approval… And baring no attention to any of them. Instead locked in possibly the most emotionally charged staring contest of his life. Staring down the Water Tribe Ambassador with the resolve in his eyes clouding over the hope hidden just behind it. That was seconds ago, but now he’s striding towards the boy, each step 3 paces at least, cutting down the gap between them as quickly as he possibly can without causing alarm. It appears to him his strategy may not have worked as a look of panic flashes over Sokka’s fixated stare. It’s gone as soon as it came but Zuko’s already seen it and, almost upon reflex, catches the Ambassador’s right shoulder just in time for him to turn away.</p><p>“<em>Stay</em>” he shouts. He tries to shout. He <em>wants</em> to shout.</p><p>In reality, the word comes out as barely more than a whisper. The drop in Sokka’s tense shoulder tells him he heard it.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p>He glares at the ships in the port, docking and leaving for the final time that night. He glares as if it’s their fault. It should be him, walking onto the platform, locating his cabin (Ambassador status has some privileges, and Sokka has found private boarding to be one of them), settling down for the night. Tomorrow he’d wake, half-way to the southern pole. Far away from this place and its loud music, its lights too bright, it’s overpowering spicy smells. Far away from its stuffy meetings and responsibilities. Far away from-</p><p><em>Zuko.</em> He feels a shoulder brush up against his, an arm, a hand, his friend is stood pressed directly to his side, as if the rest of the balcony floor around them may drop away at any moment. Sokka shakes his head to himself, he shouldn’t be here. What was he thinking? Why didn’t he stick to the plan?</p><p>But, again, he knows why. He knows the look of disappointment, of hurt Zuko shot at him when he announced he couldn’t join them. As if Sokka’s dismissal of the banquet was somehow his own personal failure. He knows how that <em>look</em> stabbed into him and coursed painfully through his veins, how he didn’t sleep that night, he remembers just how much it hurt to see it still lingering the next day, behind every word Zuko spoke and every pitiful glance he gave away when he thought the Water Tribe boy wasn’t looking. He glances now, only for a second, to Zukos face. And he feels his heart break all over again as he watches the same expression return.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash your party.”</em>
</p><p>Zuko lets out a snort, but it’s cold and curt. “<em>You </em>were<em> invited you know.”</em></p><p>He does know – and right now he’s wishing that’s all there was to it. Longing for it to be that simple, for him to just be someone who changed his mind. Someone who could walk through those mahogany doors, arms wide, with the announcement he decided to come anyway, and Zuko would laugh and say something about how he knew he would and how Sokka can’t resist a free banquet, and they’d move on with their night. Why couldn’t things be like that? That night, by the pond, had ruined everything. Now every room they stepped into filled with awkwardness, and Sokka prayed it wouldn’t turn to animosity.</p><p><em>“I’m sorry” </em>he started again,</p><p>
  <em>“You didn’t crash-”</em>
</p><p><em>“No.” </em>a sigh. <em>“I’m sorry about the other night” </em>and truthfully, he is.</p><p>Zuko pauses, quietly weighing out his response. Sokka could see it on his face, an accumulation of so many emotions it almost made him impossible to read. Almost.</p><p><em>“If- If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry”</em> he continued, mind and stomach churning at the silence in the air, words desperate to fill it before it suffocated them both. <em>“I think- something changed this week. With us- me”</em> he rushed to correct himself <em>“Me. Its my problem. I don’t want to drag you down into it. I just- I’m not sure I’m seeing things the same way I did when I arrived this week and- and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I still don’t know.” </em></p><p>He forced himself to look to his left, to the man standing pressed against him, physically side by side with eyes that seemed miles away. He didn’t speak. Sokka took it as a cue to continue. “<em>I didn’t. This wasn’t. I wasn’t leaving early because of that night- if that’s what you think. I wasn’t.”</em> He felt a sudden shift in the pressure beside him, finally a response.</p><p><em>“You weren’t?”</em> The smallest of voices. Had they not been stood outside, in the general hush of the late night, Sokka couldn’t have been confident he would have heard it.</p><p><em>“What?? Of course not. I- My dad, I know he’s got his work cut out back home, and he sent me here in his place, I just wanted to get back to helping him… I didn’t think you’d mind.” </em>He adds that last part in a quieter tone than the rest. The truth is he doesn’t <em>know</em> why Zuko took his loss so personally, but he has some theories. And if any of them are true – Sokka’s heart really <em>might</em> come up through his throat.</p><p>He’s not sure he’s ready for that, but he’s also not sure he has a choice. Here, outside, late evening, watching the last drabs of people filter into their houses, trying desperately to focus on them and not the fact that a fierce golden gaze is now well and truly on him, shamelessly boring a hole into his head, Sokka’s hand is forced.</p><p><em>“Why were you so sad that I couldn’t come?”</em> He finishes his ramblings on a question and pretends he doesn’t hear the hitch in Zukos breath.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Honestly, Zuko didn’t have an answer. Not one Sokka wanted to hear. <em>Because I wanted to dance and eat, and I dressed nicely and wore my best clothes oh, and I think I might be in love with you now.</em> He couldn’t say that, he couldn’t even allude to it without risk, he knows the last time he did that it went down about as well as a metal balloon. He wants to openly lie and respond with some quip about all his Ambassadors being important to him, about how he values the presence of every single one of them. That’s the kind of thing any other royal would say, although anyone else being swept up in such a hopeless, one sided homosexual love affair seemed hard to picture. It just <em>had</em> to be Zuko. He could tell Sokka to fuck off. Tell him it’s none of his business and that, he’s changed his mind anyway, and doesn’t care what his friend does. No. Also not right. Also, a blatant lie. He cares about what Sokka does so deeply that it <em>hurts</em> him.</p><p><em>“Zuko?”</em> a soft all too familiar call breaks his train of thought.</p><p>Crap. He’s taken too long. He inhales deeply. The swimming anxiety he remembers from the night in the garden floods back to him with an all too familiar burn.</p><p>A strained sounding voice, desperate to appear casual, stops him with a flurry of words.</p><p><em>“Look, never mind, okay? Clearly you don’t want to talk about this, and I shouldn’t have pushed. Why don’t we just go inside and pretend this whole thing never happened.”</em> Sokka forces out a small sad, rueful laugh.</p><p>No.</p><p>It’s great that he came back, and Zukos sure that the party is in full force and wonderful, not to mention he’s probably quite missed – being the host and all, but tomorrow Sokka goes home, back to the south pole for real this time. He knows second chances are rare, but <em>third</em> chances are non-existent. He’s doing this and he’s doing it now.</p><p><em>“Sokka. I hated this week.”</em> He hears himself state, flatly. Sokka’s eyes go wide. <em>“Or, at least I did. Before you showed up with your stupid notes and-” </em>he steals a glance at the person beside him, small smile daring to creep onto his face, <em>“and before your stupid grin and all your stupid ideas.”</em></p><p>Pause. A deep breath. Sokka stays silent.</p><p><em>“I know- I know we’re friends.”</em> Fuck. <em>“I’ve known you for ages, but I don’t think I really knew </em>you<em>, you know?” </em>Sokka’s expression betrays that he does, in fact, not know. <em>“What I’m </em>trying<em> to say” </em>Zuko spits out, almost through gritted teeth, he’s never been good with emotions. <em>“Is that I think something changed for me, too. But- But I’m not sure that I dislike it. Actually...”</em></p><p><em>Now </em>Sokka understands, Zuko watches the same myriad of emotions he felt a moment ago rush through him too: confusion, happiness, worry, confliction. Zuko forces the next words out before he loses his nerve. <em>“But I can tell- I think- that this might be a bad thing for you.” </em>Sokka’s eyes widen ever further, something he thought impossible, had he not been wracked with anxiety over his confession, Zuko might have even found it amusing. Another time. He pushes on, <em>“Sokka, if- if there’s someone else I understand. I can’t help how I feel”</em> begrudgingly <em>“but I’m happy to pretend this didn’t happen. For the- uh- sake of diplomacy.”</em></p><p><em>And so I never have to lose you from my life</em> he adds in his head.</p><p>SOKKA</p><p>Sokka is going to be sick. Like, actually sick. He wonders if he aims it over the railing, that the stalls below might sue for damages. His ears are burning, he’s not even sure Zuko has stopped speaking yet, but he’s heard enough. He wonders what his friend (can he even still say that?) will think if, in direct response to his declaration of love, Sokka projectile vomits directly over the handrail. God, he’ll probably think he’s disgusted. This is the same Zuko who thought someone leaving his Palace a day early was an outright romantic rejection – <em>of course </em>he’ll take it personally.</p><p>But the truth is, Sokka isn’t disgusted, far from, but he is scared. He knows that about himself, at least. Sokka is terrified. Zuko, one of his closest friends, who always had a deadpan remark to send him into fits of laughter, who had soft cascades of hair and an even softer smile. Who had strong, yet remarkably gentle hands. Hands that could deftly brandish swords and intricately paint fierce landscapes of fire in the sky. God, he missed the feeling of having them intertwined with his own. Sokka steadies his nerve and forces himself to swallow down the threatening waves of nausea.</p><p>Zuko was brave – Zuko who had fought his father, his own sister, betrayed his whole family and their corrupt nation for the greater good, who had come with him to Boiling Rock without hesitation and never once left his side, who had lead his sister to find closure and peace without a second thought, fire in his veins, determination in his eyes. Zuko was the bravest man Sokka knew. And here he was again, being brave, telling the night sky how he cared for the boy stood beside him. And Sokka knew what every word meant; the weight carried behind every carefully balanced but stuttered sentence. It was the same weight he’d be carrying around in his chest since he passed Zuko that note the second day of the meetings, and watched him cough back a laugh and turn his head towards him, with a smirk so transfixing and a sharp, playful glint in his eye that could slice him in two. He only wished he had the courage, the bravery, to set loose those emotions bubbling up inside him like a pot of tea left on the stove far too long, the flames underneath him driving him further to the edge.</p><p>He’d thought about the look Zuko had given him over and over, whether staring off into space during a quiet daytime lull or smiling into his pillow after the sun was set beyond the clouds. He thought and thought about it, non-stop, playing their secret acquired moments over and over again in his mind with brief intermissions to daydream about what more they could create. About the metaphorical cartwheels he would do just to coax that smile out again. Just to see a grin.  A hint of mischief. A pursed lip to feign concentration but turned upwards at the corners, as a precise and delicate hand might slip another note back in Sokka’s direction. All he wanted to think about – was that. Was Zuko. And fuck maybe it was terrifying to know your close friend, your old enemy, had such an intoxicating hold on you, a hold that came seemingly out of nowhere and now seeped into every pore. He realised, not for the first time that night, how close the two of them truly were stood, how he could feel Zukos breath warm but quick and erratic on his neck, he could feel every inch of his skin prickling, burning, against his arm. He looked up, desperately trying to fight off the terror clutching his chest and saw something silently promising in the golden stare meeting his. He didn’t have time to think about his next move, or the next thing he could say, a thick invisible fog curling around them forcing them ever closer until expanding his ribcage felt futile, until looking away felt impossible.</p><p>Sokka did something brave.</p><p>ZUKO</p><p>Zuko doesn’t realise he’s being kissed until its almost over. Maybe that’s why, when the hesitant Southern Water Tribe boy in front of him starts to pull away, his brain <em>finally</em> kicks in, hand flying up to catch his cheek gently before he can place too much distance in between them again. And he holds Sokka there, less than an inch from his face, lips grazing against each other, as they exchange shallow breaths. The kiss wasn’t heavy, or exhaustive, they have no reason to be behaving in such a winded manor, except for the fact they’re both stood, frozen in place, similarly unbelieving of what just happened and anxiously waiting for the other to react first. They’re so close Zuko swears he can hear the rush of blood in Sokka’s cheeks, painting a wonderful blush across his nose, and fuck has he always been so beautiful? Zuko knows Sokka has blue eyes, the whole hemisphere knows Sokka has blue eyes, but were they always <em>this </em>blue? He has no idea what he’s saying. Thinking. Honestly at this point it’s a miracle he can think at all. How anyone would be able to form any singular coherent thought with such an earnest, cautiously hopeful pair of sparkling blue eyes staring directly at them, is a mystery. And yet, somehow, Zuko manages it. And, again by the grace of Agni, he manages to form that thought into a real, verbal sentence.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re really pretty Sokka.” </em>
</p><p>Okay, so it’s not his best. But it’s <em>something. </em>Sure, it’s not the most complex thing he’s ever said but he’s definitely still doing better than <em>Sokka</em> who has apparently chosen to become mute, although his blushing becomes fiercer at the compliment. Zuko can’t help but smile fondly, the same fondness he shared a few nights back, watching the boy desperately try to befriend the turtleducks in his private garden. There’s a softness. They continue to stand like that until his esteemed Ambassador, currently a puddle of nerves and affection, decides to show some form of movement and clears his throat slightly, backing away. Zuko immediately misses the warmth beneath his fingers, but something inside him knows that Sokka won’t run this time. Even pulled back they’re still intoxicatingly close, well within reach for him to lean down at any moment and repay the gift given to him moments ago. But he doesn’t do that just yet, it looks like the focus of his affections is trying to muster up the courage to say something.</p><p>Eventually he does.</p><p><em>“This week-”</em> Sokka starts, nervously glancing upwards as if looking for approval to break the moment with his words. Zuko gives a soft, barely noticeable nod, one you probably wouldn’t even notice unless you we’re totally immersed, fully enveloped in watching his every move. Sokka notices.</p><p>He continues <em>“This week, it’s like- like I met a new you, I don’t know how to go back to how things were because I- I don’t even think we’re the same people as we were… before,” </em></p><p>He leaves the statement open ended, Zuko wonders if he’s looking for a solution. He’s wracking his brain of what to say when he sees a look flash over Sokka’s face. And oh, Agni. He knows that look. Knows it well. It gives way to a grin and suddenly Sokka is stretching away from him, an idea brewing behind his eyes. <em>“Stay there.”</em></p><p>Zuko frowns, but relents, letting him walk away from him. <em>“I’m staying here because I want to.”</em> He retorts, slightly too late, and Sokka just hums in response, disappearing back into the party. For one awful, sinking moment Zuko thinks he’s left him there.</p><p>Then, there’s a tap on his shoulder. He spins around puzzled and is met once again with piercing blue eyes and a charming wide grin<em>. “Hi. I’m Sokka.”</em></p><p>SOKKA</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t see why we need to reintroduce ourselves.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Because we’re different </em>people<em>, Zuko. It’s </em>symbolic<em>.” </em>Sokka doesn’t understand why he’s making this so hard. “<em>Before, you were my </em>friend<em> Zuko: nice, polite, yeah, and I mean you were funny and stuff, but you were super dramatic and- and all</em> <em>grumpy all the time. Like, no fun allowed! On a quest to regain my honour yadah yadah I must amend the bridges my father has broken blah blah blah</em>”</p><p><em>“Charming.”</em> Zuko bites out, but he pauses. <em>“And now...?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Now, well, I guess you’re still all those things, yes, and that’s important, don’t get me wrong.”</em>
</p><p>The Firelord’s brow slightly un-furrows.</p><p><em>“But you’re actually hilarious, and- and incredibly kind. And you’re fascinating.</em> <em>You’re smart and brave and passionate. I mean- you were probably always this way but I’m dumb and-”</em></p><p><em>“You’re not dumb.”</em> He softly interjects. Sokka has to swallow back down the giddiness he feels before it could force him to abruptly end his monologue and kiss the sweet smile off Zuko’s face. The endearing look in his eyes. He was so fucked. He blurts out the rest of his speech in one long run on sentence. <em>“What I’m saying</em> <em>is I guess it took me long enough to realise these things about you and I’m mad it took me this long but I’m here now and it feels like a new chapter so” </em>he clears his throat and stares Zuko down, but there’s a definite mirth to his glare, <em>“Hi. I’m Sokka.”</em></p><p>Zuko raises an eyebrow.</p><p><em>“OH, COME ON!”</em> He throws his hands up in the air. <em>“Would you just play along?? For me?”</em></p><p>The eyebrow comes back down, a look of genuine contemplation and something else, (fondness?) replacing it.</p><p>
  <em>“What do you want me to do? Bow?? Because I will. If that’s what it takes.”</em>
</p><p>A smirk. Sokka steals himself, Zukko’s smirks, he’d discovered this week, we’re made to knock him sideways.</p><p>He grumbles. A sigh. Sokka finds himself glaring, and then, sure enough, he bows.</p><p>But he’s not <em>just</em> bowing to Zuko, like he might in a professional setting for the sake of appearances or after sparring; Sokka practically folds himself in half, a lose hair of his falling barely an inch from the floor. <em>“Will this do, my lord?”</em> He manages to say, blood rushing to his head at an alarming rate.</p><p>There’s a bark of laughter as he feels Zuko pull him upwards and into his arms in the process. He holds him close, still laughing and wow, the boy has the most beautiful laugh, Sokka wants to listen to it forever.</p><p><em>“So,” </em>Sokka demands after a few moments, <em>“What do you think? Is it nice to meet me?”</em> Zuko’s eyes widen slightly at the strange question and then he bursts into laughter all over again having to wipe away a small tear with the back of his free hand. He smiles, with that same warmth Sokka had been longing to feel again for days. <em>“Enchanting.” </em></p><p>He lets out one last chuckle as he pulls their lips together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for making it to the end! lmk if you have any opinions, or if I made any mistakes with the canon :)<br/>I'm on here and I'm on tumblr @<a href="http://tysukis.tumblr.com/">tysukis</a> &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>